had turned out of sight. Then he leaned off the frame, turned the opposite way, and walked into the mob.
CHAPTER 8
Mieshka’s sneakers slapped against the sidewalk. The mob was behind them, out of sight. Their shouts preceded them. Mieshka shuddered. Either they were getting louder, or they were getting closer. That feeling of butterflies shook her, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with their date. The street curved slowly around. After a block, Chris pulled her down a dark alley. Its black brick buildings loomed on either side.
“Can’t let them get ahead of us,” he said, leading the way. The air was close with stale cigarette smoke. Her shoes scuffed on the stained concrete.
She cast him a sidelong look. He hadn’t said much about the mob. They were probably his neighbours. She felt sick.
“Where should we go?” she asked. He guided her arm. His fingers gripped through her sweatshirt.
The shouting stopped. Maybe Roger had intercepted them.
She didn’t trust the silence. Chris picked up the pace.
“They’ve probably blocked the exits. If Roger said to head to the mall, they haven’t gotten there yet.”
“Can we trust him?” A beer bottle spun away from her toe, chipping against brick.
An intersecting alley flashed light on his face. His expression was grim.
“Probably. This is his territory. We’re close, anyway. See?” He pointed ahead to the alley’s end, where a streetlight illuminated a large crack on a roadway. Across the street, the stone walls of a church stretched into the rafters. She recognized the spire that stabbed into the gloom.
“Hallelujah,” she said.
A gunshot cracked through the air. She jerked, tripping into an electronic bike. Its alarm went off, whistling to the mob.
Chris dragged her up. Without a word, they ran. Air rushed into her face as their feet pounded the pavement. She was glad she’d left her backpack at school.
By the time they hit the mall, two months of pizzas had caught up to her. She swung around the plywood doors, clutching a stitch in her side. Chris was in better shape. Then again, he walked up twenty-three storeys every day.
“They’ll be expecting us here. We can’t stay.”
“If I can make it to Mo’s…”
“Mo’s is good. Nobody’s dumb enough to attack him.”
Another gunshot. Mieshka’s head rang. It sounded like they were getting closer. Chris looked at the lights.
She leaned against the wall. “I hope all of our dates don’t end up this way.”
His face was serious as he followed the wires with his eyes. “We need to split up.”
“That was a quick relationship.” Mieshka followed his gaze. The wires crossed above their heads, taped to the ceiling. “Why?”
“Darkness will slow them. You get a head start while I kill the breaker.”
Alone? In the dark? She shivered. By the sounds outside, the mob wasn’t far. Chris pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and threw it to her. She caught it. Barely.
“How do you know how to kill the lights?”
“Used to be quite a vandal.” He backed away toward where the wires led. “They’re close. You need to go now. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
With that, he disappeared. She stared after him, listening to his footsteps. Was she insane?
A gunshot jerked her against the wall again. She cowered into it, gripping the flashlight hard. This was not what she had meant by ‘facing her fears’. Pushing herself away from the wall, she planted her feet into the concrete. Pretend it’s a starter’s gun, she thought. Pretend this is just a track meet. In an abandoned, Underground mall.
She shivered. How long until it went dark?
At a second shot, she didn’t wait to find out.
Mieshka’s track and field training returned. She stretched her legs out, immediately regretting her choice in tight jeans. Her breath, which had started out panicked and harsh, smoothed into her old, habitual rhythm. As did her legs, pants permitting. She found her pace. The echoes
CHAPTER 8
Mieshka’s sneakers slapped against the sidewalk. The mob was behind them, out of sight. Their shouts preceded them. Mieshka shuddered. Either they were getting louder, or they were getting closer. That feeling of butterflies shook her, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with their date. The street curved slowly around. After a block, Chris pulled her down a dark alley. Its black brick buildings loomed on either side.
“Can’t let them get ahead of us,” he said, leading the way. The air was close with stale cigarette smoke. Her shoes scuffed on the stained concrete.
She cast him a sidelong look. He hadn’t said much about the mob. They were probably his neighbours. She felt sick.
“Where should we go?” she asked. He guided her arm. His fingers gripped through her sweatshirt.
The shouting stopped. Maybe Roger had intercepted them.
She didn’t trust the silence. Chris picked up the pace.
“They’ve probably blocked the exits. If Roger said to head to the mall, they haven’t gotten there yet.”
“Can we trust him?” A beer bottle spun away from her toe, chipping against brick.
An intersecting alley flashed light on his face. His expression was grim.
“Probably. This is his territory. We’re close, anyway. See?” He pointed ahead to the alley’s end, where a streetlight illuminated a large crack on a roadway. Across the street, the stone walls of a church stretched into the rafters. She recognized the spire that stabbed into the gloom.
“Hallelujah,” she said.
A gunshot cracked through the air. She jerked, tripping into an electronic bike. Its alarm went off, whistling to the mob.
Chris dragged her up. Without a word, they ran. Air rushed into her face as their feet pounded the pavement. She was glad she’d left her backpack at school.
By the time they hit the mall, two months of pizzas had caught up to her. She swung around the plywood doors, clutching a stitch in her side. Chris was in better shape. Then again, he walked up twenty-three storeys every day.
“They’ll be expecting us here. We can’t stay.”
“If I can make it to Mo’s…”
“Mo’s is good. Nobody’s dumb enough to attack him.”
Another gunshot. Mieshka’s head rang. It sounded like they were getting closer. Chris looked at the lights.
She leaned against the wall. “I hope all of our dates don’t end up this way.”
His face was serious as he followed the wires with his eyes. “We need to split up.”
“That was a quick relationship.” Mieshka followed his gaze. The wires crossed above their heads, taped to the ceiling. “Why?”
“Darkness will slow them. You get a head start while I kill the breaker.”
Alone? In the dark? She shivered. By the sounds outside, the mob wasn’t far. Chris pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and threw it to her. She caught it. Barely.
“How do you know how to kill the lights?”
“Used to be quite a vandal.” He backed away toward where the wires led. “They’re close. You need to go now. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
With that, he disappeared. She stared after him, listening to his footsteps. Was she insane?
A gunshot jerked her against the wall again. She cowered into it, gripping the flashlight hard. This was not what she had meant by ‘facing her fears’. Pushing herself away from the wall, she planted her feet into the concrete. Pretend it’s a starter’s gun, she thought. Pretend this is just a track meet. In an abandoned, Underground mall.
She shivered. How long until it went dark?
At a second shot, she didn’t wait to find out.
Mieshka’s track and field training returned. She stretched her legs out, immediately regretting her choice in tight jeans. Her breath, which had started out panicked and harsh, smoothed into her old, habitual rhythm. As did her legs, pants permitting. She found her pace. The echoes
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